Killing It (2022–…): Season 1, Episode 7 - Boss Up - full transcript
After an accident at Rodney's office, Isaiah needs Craig's help getting rid of some baggage.
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Anchor: And as we look
at Democracy Plaza,
NBC News projecting
that Donald Trump is
the apparent winner
- in Florida.
anchor: Donald Trump
the apparent winner
in Florida. It's a state
anchor: That he calls
- a must win, and he appears...
- Can't understand you, boss.
- anchor: To be winning it.
- 29 electoral votes.
- I said,
it's like some New
World Order shit, man.
If Trump wins,
it's gonna be
fucking bedlam, dude.
The libs are gonna go crazy.
It's gonna be civil fucking war.
Ah, but lucky for
you dumb fucks,
I come prepared.
Check this out.
Cool. A super heavy backpack.
Oh, yeah.
It's just a simple
little backpack,
and I'm a tourist girl
out there on my spring break,
strolling around Amsterdam,
seeing the sights,
checking out the canals.
Oh, fuck, here comes
some Serbian dude.
He's gonna drug me
and sell my virginity
on somebody's yacht, except
boom!
Bulletproof vest, baby.
And I'm not some stupid
bitch. I'm Rodney Lamonca.
You don't traffic me.
I traffic you, motherfucker.
Auction's on my yacht now!
Where did you even get these?
Fucking Kickstarter, dude.
It was invented my some marine
after getting
dishonorably discharged
for too many kills.
Explain that to me.
Ooh, lightning rod.
Check this shit out.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa.
- What the fuck are you doing?
- I'ma shoot you,
make sure these
motherfuckers work.
- Man, put that down, man.
- Just relax.
These are safe.
This is level
three-plus body armor.
- It's just from Kickstarter.
- It barely fits.
Please let me shoot you!
Please, I want to
shoot you so badly.
- Just put that down, okay?
- Just put it down.
And what the hell, man? Just...
Fine.
I won't shoot you, you big baby.
- Thank you.
- Here.
- You're gonna shoot me.
- What?
Come on.
Look, I'm not shooting anyone.
I'm not afraid.
Fear is a reaction.
Courage is a choice.
- Seriously, just...
- Just cut it out, come on.
If anything goes wrong,
Noah will say that I made
you pull the trigger.
- Rodney, stop.
- Come on.
- Boss up.
- No.
- Listen to me...
- No.
Boss up, and pull the trigger.
- I'm not shooting you.
- Boss up and shoot me!
- Stop. Rodney, I'm not...
- Boss up and shoot me!
Rodney!
Boss up and shoot
me, you motherfucker.
- I'm not...
- Boss the fuck up
and shoot me, come on!
- Oh!
I came. Oh, I came!
Fuck! Oh.
My heart feels like
it's been fucking.
You're... you're crazy, man.
- You crazy.
Haters call me crazy.
Smart people call me for advice.
Martin Luther King said that.
I'm pretty sure
Martin Luther King
- didn't talk about haters.
- Yeah he did.
It was his whole thing.
Racists are the
ultimate haters, dude.
- Rodney...
- Shoot me.
- Whoo.
Look whose hairy little
balls finally dropped.
All right.
- I'm ready.
Stand by for the good stuff.
Whoops.
Noah?
- What the fuck?
- What did you do, Rodney?
Breathe, you motherfucker!
Fucking breathe!
Boss up and breathe,
you motherfucker.
He's got a hole in his neck.
I don't think he can "boss up."
- Breathe. Huh?
- He got a hole in his neck.
- He can't "boss up."
- Would you shut the fuck up?
I don't need that
negative energy right now.
It's very poisonous,
all right, Isaiah?
I'm trying to focus
on saving his life.
- Brah.
- No, no.
I think you killed him, brah.
Well, it's 'cause
he moved, all right?
I was aiming right here,
and he sneezed or
some fucking shit.
This motherfucker.
Noah with his
goddamn weak sinuses.
Mm. Fuck.
Oh, God, do something.
No one needs to know
about this, okay?
Nobody can find out
what happened here.
Katrina finds out
that I killed her son,
she's gonna be
very upset with me.
What the fuck? What the fuck?
This is your son?
It's her son from
her first marriage.
Oh...
And we never would have
been in this position
if she would have let me
cut him out of our lives.
- Okay, you know what?
- This seems more like a...
Like a family issue, so
I'ma leave you to it.
- All right?
- Oh. Oh, no.
- I'ma head down and get out.
- Are you fucking kidding me?
Where do you think you're going?
Hey, hey, hey.
Now don't you forget,
it's your fingerprints
on this trigger.
Okay, but then yours, too,
- from when you shot him.
Well, who do you think
the cops are gonna believe
when they come
strolling in here, huh?
Some common criminal or
a celeb business titan
who auctions his wife off
at the police gala
every year, huh?
There it is.
There's my big
boy's brain working.
So we understand each other?
Now, what you're gonna do...
You're gonna clean up this mess.
You're gonna get
rid of the body.
You're gonna make it disappear
like it never happened.
'Cause if Katrina
finds out about this
that's bad news for me.
And if it's bad news for me,
oh, brother, is it
big bad news for you.
You understand
what I'm implying?
- That means I'm gonna kill you.
- Okay.
It means I'm gonna put this...
- Yeah.
- Bullet in your brain.
That means I'm
gonna paint my walls
- with your blood.
- I fucking get it, man.
Okay, I'm sorry. It's just,
effective messaging is
all about repetition.
That's a little
sales tip for you.
Cool, thanks.
Call me when it's done.
Fuck.
Shit.
This motherfucker.
Fix your stupid mess.
Ah, shit.
- Yo.
- What's your status?
Still cleaning up the blood.
It's kind of a lengthy
process, you know?
Okay, I had this great idea.
I want you to take Noah's phone
and send me a text
that makes it sound like
he's gonna hurt himself, right?
Something like, uh,
"Hey, Dad, I bought
a new gun..."
"And,
uh, I can't wait
"to try it out, but
I'm pretty dumb,
so I don't know how to use it."
Or he could say he's,
like, been feeling, like,
I don't know, depressed?
Yeah, he's like,
he's gonna kill himself.
That's fucking great.
Just scroll through his texts.
You'll see the
dumb way he talks.
I gotta go.
Facial recognition?
Okay.
"Hey, Dad. Been
feeling kind of down.
Might go away for
a while. Love you."
- Yo.
- Hey.
That read beautifully.
I bought that bullshit.
And if you need more inspiration
to not fuck this up,
check your messages.
The fuck?
"Always remember my golden rule:
Do unto others until
they do unto you."
Rodney Lamonca said that.
Copyright Rodney Lamonca.
"Mo' money, no problems."
That's a quote from
Rodney Lamonca.
Copyright Rodney Lamonca.
God, fuck.
Come on.
Motherfucker.
Okay.
Where's your helmet?
Yeah, um, I only had one,
and my buddy needed a ride home.
You know, it's his birthday.
He might have
overdid it a little.
Sucks being a DD.
Wear your helmet next time.
Oh, damn.
Looks like somebody
got lucky.
Aw, shit. That's a dead man.
I gotta go to the
hardware store.
Watch him for me.
Wait...
What's good, dead man?
Now, don't put
too much in there,
or else it's gonna be too heavy.
I... I... I'm sorry.
Is drowning corpses an
area of expertise for you?
Well, you know I did
install that basketball hoop
for my nephew that one time.
Seems similar.
How long does this
shit take to dry?
It says 40-60 minutes.
What the fuck am I
gonna do for an hour?
All right.
It's gotta be
fucking set by now.
Let's see what we got.
Oh, shit. All right.
Oh, shit.
I got it.
Help me get him to the car, man.
Shit, not with my back.
I... I could... Well,
I'm a good watcher.
I could watch you,
make sure you're doing
a good job, dude.
You're not doing a
good job right now.
You're about to drop him.
I cannot put him on
my bike like this.
I need to borrow your car.
- Yo, pop the trunk?
- Oh, he...
He ain't gonna fit
in the trunk, man.
What you mean he
ain't gonna fit?
I got some new
subwoofers put in.
Subwoofers?
How big are the
fucking subwoofers?
Big.
Where the fuck am I
supposed to put him?
Hey, no, no, no no. No, no, no!
Fuck!
Yo, Big C.
Cregory. What's goodie?
- I see you.
Nice ride.
Why you all dressed up?
What kind of favor
you need at dawn?
A big one.
What the fuck?
What the fuck, Zay?
Why are you chauffeuring
around a dead body
- in a pimpmobile?
- This is your fault.
I've been working
with Rodney Lamonca...
- What?
- And I wouldn't even
have met his crazy ass
if you hadn't invited
me to Dominine.
You invited you to Dominine.
And you only went so you
could hustle the attendees.
Why are you hung up on
a business conference
from yesterday
when there's a body
in your driveway now?
Now come one, we've gotta
live for the moment.
- We got a mess on our hands.
- "We"?
I don't have anything
to do with this.
Well, actually...
I don't know how to say this.
I thought I could
control Rodney.
All right? I thought
he was an idiot.
And he is.
And I've seen him
do some scary shit.
And if I don't get
rid of this body,
he gonna hurt me, Craig.
And you, and Nessa...
What the fuck are you
talking about, Zay?
He texted me this.
A photo of Nessa and me?
Rodney Lamonca texted you that?
I don't know where
he got it from,
and I don't even know how he
even knows about you guys,
but if... if I don't...
Look, I'm so sorry, man.
I never wanted you to
be a part of this, bro.
- I'm so...
- Shit, shit, shit.
Camille. What's up, girl?
Sh... she wants to know
why you're all dressed up.
Um, I was at a rooftop
party with Pitbull,
and I tried to leave,
but Pitbull made me stay.
You know how Pitbull is.
- Anyway, we gotta go.
- Brother business.
Dear Black Jesus,
please do not let us get
caught with this dead white man
in this stupid gold car.
In Black Jesus'
name we pray. Amen.
You finished?
Now will you please
help me figure out
what we're gonna
do with this dude?
It's gonna be a pretty
fucking short conversation,
considering I
don't know anything
about how to dispose of a body.
Except the whole
reason I came to you
is because you're
actually mad qualified
to wing man with me on this.
See, we're gonna feed
this dead man to a snake.
What?
Ain't that what your
whole python hunt is for?
Ain't these fuckers eat,
like, everything up?
Why not this dude?
I don't even know
if they eat humans.
They eat, like,
rats and alligators,
and one time a baby, I think,
but I didn't want
to watch that video,
so I don't know.
Shit, it's Jillian G.
We're supposed to go snake
hunting this morning.
Okay, well just tell her that
something better popped up.
Well, I don't want
to hurt her feelings.
- Her feelings?
What is with you and this girl?
Nothing.
I like her. She's my friend.
She's loyal and good.
- Loyal and good.
- What is she, a knight?
She just doesn't think my
dreams are stupid, okay?
What's up, Jillian?
What's going on,
partner in crime?
It's fun how we can say
that now and mean it
because we committed
the crime of arson.
We don't have to
talk about that.
But I thought you
said you took care of
- the insurance guy?
- That is correct.
But I'm in the car with Isaiah,
- and we are on speaker.
- Oh.
Hi, Isaiah.
When I said arson before,
I was speaking metaphorically.
Business fires. You get it.
Not really.
The flames of industry.
Anyway, I know we were
supposed to go hunting,
but I'm feeling sick,
and Zay is taking
me to urgent care.
Oh, no, what's wrong?
Just got a terrible headache.
I once had a headache
that lasted for an entire month.
Turned out I had
aluminium poisoning
from eating too many
old cans of beans.
I don't think that's
the case here.
You should definitely
get it looked at
and eat fewer beans.
Fewer beans and newer
beans. That's my motto.
Thank you, Jillian G.
Look, I'm sorry to
bail on you like this.
Not a problem.
And let me know if
you need anything.
Gee, that took long enough.
Now will you please Google
"Will snake eat white boy?"
Not under those search terms.
"Pythons' jaws are connected
by flexible ligaments,
"allowing them to
swallow animals
- "up to six times their size."
- Mm.
"Their stomach acids
can dissolve bone..."
- Okay.
- "Flesh..."
- Yes.
- "And feathers completely..."
- All right.
- "In a matter of weeks."
Aw, yeah.
That's some "Breaking
Bad" shit right there.
That's what I'm talking
about. Who needs bathtub acid?
All right, slow down,
Walter not-White.
"While pythons can
sometimes eat people,
"the restricting factor
is human shoulder blades
because they're
not collapsible."
We'll just cut the dude up.
Oh, is that what we'll do?
"We'll just cut the dude up"?
I see.
Language getting
a little too real?
Okay, what if I were to say,
"we gonna break him
down like a box"?
- Not better.
- Roll him like a tenderloin?
- No.
- Fold him in half
like a pizza slice.
Yeah, let's go with
the pizza slice.
My man.
Ah, there are other problems.
"Pythons can't digest clothing
made of synthetic fabrics."
Okay, we just strip
the dude naked
and burn his clothes.
"When swallowing,
"pythons need to
reduce friction.
"If the meal is too
big, they will be unable
to get it down
without lubrication."
There's a simple
solution for that.
How simple?
I...
What can I say? I'm
nuts about coconuts.
Craig, get snacks!
- What?
- Snacks! Food snacks.
Snacks? Seriously?
Aw, shit.
Just when I thought this
day couldn't get any worse.
What? What happened?
You got the onion flavor.
You know I only fuck
with smokehouse.
We have a dead body
in the back seat, Zay.
Can you please take
this seriously?
I'm just trying to get
through this, brah.
Let me do me.
So this is my big bro's office.
We should be far enough out now.
Time to get naked, my man.
Can we at least leave
his underwear on?
That depends if
his undies are made
out of synthetic
fabric, doesn't it?
Oh, ho, ho.
All-natural cotton briefs.
This is huge for us.
Why you not smiling?
Oh, it's because you
hate being in the swamp
with a naked corpse? I see.
- Can we lube him up already?
- Yeah, yeah, for sure.
For sure, get my man
nice and slick...
Seriously, Cregory? Coconut oil?
I thought the snakes
might like the scent.
- This shit is rock hard.
- It's useless.
One of us can melt
it with our hands.
The other one slathers
it on his body.
You had one job to do,
and you failed at it.
Matter of fact, two
jobs, two failures.
I forgot about the Funyuns.
Oh, well, then if those
were my only jobs,
- then I should leave because...
- Craig?
- Craig! Is that you?
- Shit.
Craig!
Jillian G.!
You done yet?
- Almost.
- Hurry up.
Craig!
I can hear you, but
I can't see you.
Me too, Jillian G.
Y'all did arson together.
Y'all crime friends.
Just tell her what's up.
I'm not gonna get
another innocent person
caught up in this, Isaiah.
- Hey!
- Hey.
I saw that gold car,
so I pulled over
to check it out,
and then I heard you talking.
I thought you were sick.
I... I was.
But then my headache went away.
Something better came up.
- Something better?
- Not better. Different.
Look, Jillian, the truth is,
we're out here having an
emotional conversation
about our dad's death.
Shit's getting earnest.
Might be hard for you to relate.
Are you kidding?
My father died.
I've been waiting forever
for Craig to open
up about this to me.
Do you guys ever
get that feeling
where you see a homeless
man on the street,
and he's got a
really thick beard,
but underneath it
could be your dad?
And you know it isn't,
but you still invite
the guy to lunch.
And then he starts fighting
the dogs at the café,
- so you've got...
- What do you need, Jillian G.?
Um, well, if you're
feeling better,
we should probably get
back to the hunt, right?
I mean, I don't want
to be a nag, you know?
I'm a guy's girl. I'm cool.
Football, hanging out, cigars.
But we are really far behind.
And I know Condom
Carl got disqualified,
but we're coming in third.
We're losing to Lou from Tampa.
Can we talk about this later?
Okay, but, um, I
really need us to win
and then to start the business
and for that to become
very successful very quickly,
because something has
come up, and it's...
Yeah, stuff comes up, Jillian G.
Stuff comes up for all of us.
I can't deal with
everyone else's shit.
Your problems
aren't my problems.
I'm sorry, but they're not.
No. It's fine.
I can take it. I'm tough.
Do you not hear my
rugged Australian accent?
Just go home.
You don't want me here.
It's lucky I'm so
tough and Australian,
because, uh, this might be
sort of a difficult moment
for a more sensitive
person or an American.
Bye.
Fuck. I feel so bad.
She's like the only friend
I've made in my adulthood.
You shouldn't feel bad.
You should feel embarrassed.
One friend ain't enough friends.
I have 17 friends.
Stop fucking making jokes.
Okay, simmer down.
Simmer down?
Which part should I
simmer down about?
The dead body we about
to break down like a box?
No, we went with the pizza plan.
- That's not better.
- You love pizza.
It's all just
mutilating a corpse.
Fuck, Zay. My life is in danger.
My daughter's life is in danger.
Oh, damn.
I did say that, didn't I?
Well, uh, good news:
That's not real.
What?
Yeah, Rodney doesn't know
anything about you or Nessa.
You can relax.
What about the
picture he texted?
I took that.
Look, here.
Here's the text of what Rodney
actually sent me.
You lied to me?
About Nessa?
Oh, I was so scared.
Zay, what the fuck
is wrong with you?
Why didn't you just
tell me the truth?
I would have helped you.
Really?
You won't even bring
me to the airport.
I was in Orlando.
You gave me five
minutes' notice.
Still said no.
I'm always taking care of you,
ever since we was kids.
Yeah, that's the thing.
You think that, but you didn't.
Were you at my first
basketball game?
Yes.
- My graduation?
- Yes.
When I lost my virginity, Craig?
- No.
- Mm-hmm.
- Agh!
- Oh, my God, man.
You're so fucking dramatic.
You're so fucking immature.
Always with the jokes.
- Even when Dad died.
- Here we go.
Here we go with this shit.
You switched out
the hymnal pages
at his funeral.
Grandma almost sang
"Fuck tha Police."
That would have
been pretty funny.
Our father was lying in a box,
and you didn't give a shit.
You've never given
a shit about anyone
or anything. You're
a fucking sociopath.
I swear to God, if you
were not my brother,
I wouldn't even fuck with you.
Man, you really...
You really believe that?
You think I didn't care
that my dad died when
I was ten years old?
You never showed it.
It was the worst day of my life.
I just wasn't sobbing like you.
Then why didn't you
talk to me about it?
Because I was fucking mad.
I was mad at you
for snitching on me
with that fucking Jolly Rancher.
I was mad at Pops for even
going back into that store.
I was mad at Mom
for marrying a...
A fucking loser who didn't
have a dime to his name.
I was mad at that... That
lowlife piece of shit
who shot him. But
I knew... I knew,
even as a kid, that if I let it,
that anger would bury me.
It would drag me into the dirt.
So yeah... so yeah,
I... I stuffed it down.
And I put on my fucking armor,
and I told my fucking jokes.
Man, but armor don't
stop every bullet, man.
My anger's still there,
and I've carried it with me
my entire life.
So... so since
you're wondering...
Since you're wondering, Craig,
that's what the fuck
is wrong with me.
I didn't ask for this pain.
I didn't ask for that
dead body, either.
But now I've got them
both, and I don't know how
to get rid of
either fucking one.
- Zay...
- Fuck.
Listen...
- I'm listening.
- Shh, shh, shh.
I guess we not gonna
have to fold him up
after all.
So we good?
I don't know.
This shit seems like
it's gonna take a while.
We talking about the
snake or stuff between us?
Both.
Both.
Let's give him some space.
- Oh, no.
- What the fuck?
Son of a bitch, come on!
Not a doctor. Shh.
---
Anchor: And as we look
at Democracy Plaza,
NBC News projecting
that Donald Trump is
the apparent winner
- in Florida.
anchor: Donald Trump
the apparent winner
in Florida. It's a state
anchor: That he calls
- a must win, and he appears...
- Can't understand you, boss.
- anchor: To be winning it.
- 29 electoral votes.
- I said,
it's like some New
World Order shit, man.
If Trump wins,
it's gonna be
fucking bedlam, dude.
The libs are gonna go crazy.
It's gonna be civil fucking war.
Ah, but lucky for
you dumb fucks,
I come prepared.
Check this out.
Cool. A super heavy backpack.
Oh, yeah.
It's just a simple
little backpack,
and I'm a tourist girl
out there on my spring break,
strolling around Amsterdam,
seeing the sights,
checking out the canals.
Oh, fuck, here comes
some Serbian dude.
He's gonna drug me
and sell my virginity
on somebody's yacht, except
boom!
Bulletproof vest, baby.
And I'm not some stupid
bitch. I'm Rodney Lamonca.
You don't traffic me.
I traffic you, motherfucker.
Auction's on my yacht now!
Where did you even get these?
Fucking Kickstarter, dude.
It was invented my some marine
after getting
dishonorably discharged
for too many kills.
Explain that to me.
Ooh, lightning rod.
Check this shit out.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa.
- What the fuck are you doing?
- I'ma shoot you,
make sure these
motherfuckers work.
- Man, put that down, man.
- Just relax.
These are safe.
This is level
three-plus body armor.
- It's just from Kickstarter.
- It barely fits.
Please let me shoot you!
Please, I want to
shoot you so badly.
- Just put that down, okay?
- Just put it down.
And what the hell, man? Just...
Fine.
I won't shoot you, you big baby.
- Thank you.
- Here.
- You're gonna shoot me.
- What?
Come on.
Look, I'm not shooting anyone.
I'm not afraid.
Fear is a reaction.
Courage is a choice.
- Seriously, just...
- Just cut it out, come on.
If anything goes wrong,
Noah will say that I made
you pull the trigger.
- Rodney, stop.
- Come on.
- Boss up.
- No.
- Listen to me...
- No.
Boss up, and pull the trigger.
- I'm not shooting you.
- Boss up and shoot me!
- Stop. Rodney, I'm not...
- Boss up and shoot me!
Rodney!
Boss up and shoot
me, you motherfucker.
- I'm not...
- Boss the fuck up
and shoot me, come on!
- Oh!
I came. Oh, I came!
Fuck! Oh.
My heart feels like
it's been fucking.
You're... you're crazy, man.
- You crazy.
Haters call me crazy.
Smart people call me for advice.
Martin Luther King said that.
I'm pretty sure
Martin Luther King
- didn't talk about haters.
- Yeah he did.
It was his whole thing.
Racists are the
ultimate haters, dude.
- Rodney...
- Shoot me.
- Whoo.
Look whose hairy little
balls finally dropped.
All right.
- I'm ready.
Stand by for the good stuff.
Whoops.
Noah?
- What the fuck?
- What did you do, Rodney?
Breathe, you motherfucker!
Fucking breathe!
Boss up and breathe,
you motherfucker.
He's got a hole in his neck.
I don't think he can "boss up."
- Breathe. Huh?
- He got a hole in his neck.
- He can't "boss up."
- Would you shut the fuck up?
I don't need that
negative energy right now.
It's very poisonous,
all right, Isaiah?
I'm trying to focus
on saving his life.
- Brah.
- No, no.
I think you killed him, brah.
Well, it's 'cause
he moved, all right?
I was aiming right here,
and he sneezed or
some fucking shit.
This motherfucker.
Noah with his
goddamn weak sinuses.
Mm. Fuck.
Oh, God, do something.
No one needs to know
about this, okay?
Nobody can find out
what happened here.
Katrina finds out
that I killed her son,
she's gonna be
very upset with me.
What the fuck? What the fuck?
This is your son?
It's her son from
her first marriage.
Oh...
And we never would have
been in this position
if she would have let me
cut him out of our lives.
- Okay, you know what?
- This seems more like a...
Like a family issue, so
I'ma leave you to it.
- All right?
- Oh. Oh, no.
- I'ma head down and get out.
- Are you fucking kidding me?
Where do you think you're going?
Hey, hey, hey.
Now don't you forget,
it's your fingerprints
on this trigger.
Okay, but then yours, too,
- from when you shot him.
Well, who do you think
the cops are gonna believe
when they come
strolling in here, huh?
Some common criminal or
a celeb business titan
who auctions his wife off
at the police gala
every year, huh?
There it is.
There's my big
boy's brain working.
So we understand each other?
Now, what you're gonna do...
You're gonna clean up this mess.
You're gonna get
rid of the body.
You're gonna make it disappear
like it never happened.
'Cause if Katrina
finds out about this
that's bad news for me.
And if it's bad news for me,
oh, brother, is it
big bad news for you.
You understand
what I'm implying?
- That means I'm gonna kill you.
- Okay.
It means I'm gonna put this...
- Yeah.
- Bullet in your brain.
That means I'm
gonna paint my walls
- with your blood.
- I fucking get it, man.
Okay, I'm sorry. It's just,
effective messaging is
all about repetition.
That's a little
sales tip for you.
Cool, thanks.
Call me when it's done.
Fuck.
Shit.
This motherfucker.
Fix your stupid mess.
Ah, shit.
- Yo.
- What's your status?
Still cleaning up the blood.
It's kind of a lengthy
process, you know?
Okay, I had this great idea.
I want you to take Noah's phone
and send me a text
that makes it sound like
he's gonna hurt himself, right?
Something like, uh,
"Hey, Dad, I bought
a new gun..."
"And,
uh, I can't wait
"to try it out, but
I'm pretty dumb,
so I don't know how to use it."
Or he could say he's,
like, been feeling, like,
I don't know, depressed?
Yeah, he's like,
he's gonna kill himself.
That's fucking great.
Just scroll through his texts.
You'll see the
dumb way he talks.
I gotta go.
Facial recognition?
Okay.
"Hey, Dad. Been
feeling kind of down.
Might go away for
a while. Love you."
- Yo.
- Hey.
That read beautifully.
I bought that bullshit.
And if you need more inspiration
to not fuck this up,
check your messages.
The fuck?
"Always remember my golden rule:
Do unto others until
they do unto you."
Rodney Lamonca said that.
Copyright Rodney Lamonca.
"Mo' money, no problems."
That's a quote from
Rodney Lamonca.
Copyright Rodney Lamonca.
God, fuck.
Come on.
Motherfucker.
Okay.
Where's your helmet?
Yeah, um, I only had one,
and my buddy needed a ride home.
You know, it's his birthday.
He might have
overdid it a little.
Sucks being a DD.
Wear your helmet next time.
Oh, damn.
Looks like somebody
got lucky.
Aw, shit. That's a dead man.
I gotta go to the
hardware store.
Watch him for me.
Wait...
What's good, dead man?
Now, don't put
too much in there,
or else it's gonna be too heavy.
I... I... I'm sorry.
Is drowning corpses an
area of expertise for you?
Well, you know I did
install that basketball hoop
for my nephew that one time.
Seems similar.
How long does this
shit take to dry?
It says 40-60 minutes.
What the fuck am I
gonna do for an hour?
All right.
It's gotta be
fucking set by now.
Let's see what we got.
Oh, shit. All right.
Oh, shit.
I got it.
Help me get him to the car, man.
Shit, not with my back.
I... I could... Well,
I'm a good watcher.
I could watch you,
make sure you're doing
a good job, dude.
You're not doing a
good job right now.
You're about to drop him.
I cannot put him on
my bike like this.
I need to borrow your car.
- Yo, pop the trunk?
- Oh, he...
He ain't gonna fit
in the trunk, man.
What you mean he
ain't gonna fit?
I got some new
subwoofers put in.
Subwoofers?
How big are the
fucking subwoofers?
Big.
Where the fuck am I
supposed to put him?
Hey, no, no, no no. No, no, no!
Fuck!
Yo, Big C.
Cregory. What's goodie?
- I see you.
Nice ride.
Why you all dressed up?
What kind of favor
you need at dawn?
A big one.
What the fuck?
What the fuck, Zay?
Why are you chauffeuring
around a dead body
- in a pimpmobile?
- This is your fault.
I've been working
with Rodney Lamonca...
- What?
- And I wouldn't even
have met his crazy ass
if you hadn't invited
me to Dominine.
You invited you to Dominine.
And you only went so you
could hustle the attendees.
Why are you hung up on
a business conference
from yesterday
when there's a body
in your driveway now?
Now come one, we've gotta
live for the moment.
- We got a mess on our hands.
- "We"?
I don't have anything
to do with this.
Well, actually...
I don't know how to say this.
I thought I could
control Rodney.
All right? I thought
he was an idiot.
And he is.
And I've seen him
do some scary shit.
And if I don't get
rid of this body,
he gonna hurt me, Craig.
And you, and Nessa...
What the fuck are you
talking about, Zay?
He texted me this.
A photo of Nessa and me?
Rodney Lamonca texted you that?
I don't know where
he got it from,
and I don't even know how he
even knows about you guys,
but if... if I don't...
Look, I'm so sorry, man.
I never wanted you to
be a part of this, bro.
- I'm so...
- Shit, shit, shit.
Camille. What's up, girl?
Sh... she wants to know
why you're all dressed up.
Um, I was at a rooftop
party with Pitbull,
and I tried to leave,
but Pitbull made me stay.
You know how Pitbull is.
- Anyway, we gotta go.
- Brother business.
Dear Black Jesus,
please do not let us get
caught with this dead white man
in this stupid gold car.
In Black Jesus'
name we pray. Amen.
You finished?
Now will you please
help me figure out
what we're gonna
do with this dude?
It's gonna be a pretty
fucking short conversation,
considering I
don't know anything
about how to dispose of a body.
Except the whole
reason I came to you
is because you're
actually mad qualified
to wing man with me on this.
See, we're gonna feed
this dead man to a snake.
What?
Ain't that what your
whole python hunt is for?
Ain't these fuckers eat,
like, everything up?
Why not this dude?
I don't even know
if they eat humans.
They eat, like,
rats and alligators,
and one time a baby, I think,
but I didn't want
to watch that video,
so I don't know.
Shit, it's Jillian G.
We're supposed to go snake
hunting this morning.
Okay, well just tell her that
something better popped up.
Well, I don't want
to hurt her feelings.
- Her feelings?
What is with you and this girl?
Nothing.
I like her. She's my friend.
She's loyal and good.
- Loyal and good.
- What is she, a knight?
She just doesn't think my
dreams are stupid, okay?
What's up, Jillian?
What's going on,
partner in crime?
It's fun how we can say
that now and mean it
because we committed
the crime of arson.
We don't have to
talk about that.
But I thought you
said you took care of
- the insurance guy?
- That is correct.
But I'm in the car with Isaiah,
- and we are on speaker.
- Oh.
Hi, Isaiah.
When I said arson before,
I was speaking metaphorically.
Business fires. You get it.
Not really.
The flames of industry.
Anyway, I know we were
supposed to go hunting,
but I'm feeling sick,
and Zay is taking
me to urgent care.
Oh, no, what's wrong?
Just got a terrible headache.
I once had a headache
that lasted for an entire month.
Turned out I had
aluminium poisoning
from eating too many
old cans of beans.
I don't think that's
the case here.
You should definitely
get it looked at
and eat fewer beans.
Fewer beans and newer
beans. That's my motto.
Thank you, Jillian G.
Look, I'm sorry to
bail on you like this.
Not a problem.
And let me know if
you need anything.
Gee, that took long enough.
Now will you please Google
"Will snake eat white boy?"
Not under those search terms.
"Pythons' jaws are connected
by flexible ligaments,
"allowing them to
swallow animals
- "up to six times their size."
- Mm.
"Their stomach acids
can dissolve bone..."
- Okay.
- "Flesh..."
- Yes.
- "And feathers completely..."
- All right.
- "In a matter of weeks."
Aw, yeah.
That's some "Breaking
Bad" shit right there.
That's what I'm talking
about. Who needs bathtub acid?
All right, slow down,
Walter not-White.
"While pythons can
sometimes eat people,
"the restricting factor
is human shoulder blades
because they're
not collapsible."
We'll just cut the dude up.
Oh, is that what we'll do?
"We'll just cut the dude up"?
I see.
Language getting
a little too real?
Okay, what if I were to say,
"we gonna break him
down like a box"?
- Not better.
- Roll him like a tenderloin?
- No.
- Fold him in half
like a pizza slice.
Yeah, let's go with
the pizza slice.
My man.
Ah, there are other problems.
"Pythons can't digest clothing
made of synthetic fabrics."
Okay, we just strip
the dude naked
and burn his clothes.
"When swallowing,
"pythons need to
reduce friction.
"If the meal is too
big, they will be unable
to get it down
without lubrication."
There's a simple
solution for that.
How simple?
I...
What can I say? I'm
nuts about coconuts.
Craig, get snacks!
- What?
- Snacks! Food snacks.
Snacks? Seriously?
Aw, shit.
Just when I thought this
day couldn't get any worse.
What? What happened?
You got the onion flavor.
You know I only fuck
with smokehouse.
We have a dead body
in the back seat, Zay.
Can you please take
this seriously?
I'm just trying to get
through this, brah.
Let me do me.
So this is my big bro's office.
We should be far enough out now.
Time to get naked, my man.
Can we at least leave
his underwear on?
That depends if
his undies are made
out of synthetic
fabric, doesn't it?
Oh, ho, ho.
All-natural cotton briefs.
This is huge for us.
Why you not smiling?
Oh, it's because you
hate being in the swamp
with a naked corpse? I see.
- Can we lube him up already?
- Yeah, yeah, for sure.
For sure, get my man
nice and slick...
Seriously, Cregory? Coconut oil?
I thought the snakes
might like the scent.
- This shit is rock hard.
- It's useless.
One of us can melt
it with our hands.
The other one slathers
it on his body.
You had one job to do,
and you failed at it.
Matter of fact, two
jobs, two failures.
I forgot about the Funyuns.
Oh, well, then if those
were my only jobs,
- then I should leave because...
- Craig?
- Craig! Is that you?
- Shit.
Craig!
Jillian G.!
You done yet?
- Almost.
- Hurry up.
Craig!
I can hear you, but
I can't see you.
Me too, Jillian G.
Y'all did arson together.
Y'all crime friends.
Just tell her what's up.
I'm not gonna get
another innocent person
caught up in this, Isaiah.
- Hey!
- Hey.
I saw that gold car,
so I pulled over
to check it out,
and then I heard you talking.
I thought you were sick.
I... I was.
But then my headache went away.
Something better came up.
- Something better?
- Not better. Different.
Look, Jillian, the truth is,
we're out here having an
emotional conversation
about our dad's death.
Shit's getting earnest.
Might be hard for you to relate.
Are you kidding?
My father died.
I've been waiting forever
for Craig to open
up about this to me.
Do you guys ever
get that feeling
where you see a homeless
man on the street,
and he's got a
really thick beard,
but underneath it
could be your dad?
And you know it isn't,
but you still invite
the guy to lunch.
And then he starts fighting
the dogs at the café,
- so you've got...
- What do you need, Jillian G.?
Um, well, if you're
feeling better,
we should probably get
back to the hunt, right?
I mean, I don't want
to be a nag, you know?
I'm a guy's girl. I'm cool.
Football, hanging out, cigars.
But we are really far behind.
And I know Condom
Carl got disqualified,
but we're coming in third.
We're losing to Lou from Tampa.
Can we talk about this later?
Okay, but, um, I
really need us to win
and then to start the business
and for that to become
very successful very quickly,
because something has
come up, and it's...
Yeah, stuff comes up, Jillian G.
Stuff comes up for all of us.
I can't deal with
everyone else's shit.
Your problems
aren't my problems.
I'm sorry, but they're not.
No. It's fine.
I can take it. I'm tough.
Do you not hear my
rugged Australian accent?
Just go home.
You don't want me here.
It's lucky I'm so
tough and Australian,
because, uh, this might be
sort of a difficult moment
for a more sensitive
person or an American.
Bye.
Fuck. I feel so bad.
She's like the only friend
I've made in my adulthood.
You shouldn't feel bad.
You should feel embarrassed.
One friend ain't enough friends.
I have 17 friends.
Stop fucking making jokes.
Okay, simmer down.
Simmer down?
Which part should I
simmer down about?
The dead body we about
to break down like a box?
No, we went with the pizza plan.
- That's not better.
- You love pizza.
It's all just
mutilating a corpse.
Fuck, Zay. My life is in danger.
My daughter's life is in danger.
Oh, damn.
I did say that, didn't I?
Well, uh, good news:
That's not real.
What?
Yeah, Rodney doesn't know
anything about you or Nessa.
You can relax.
What about the
picture he texted?
I took that.
Look, here.
Here's the text of what Rodney
actually sent me.
You lied to me?
About Nessa?
Oh, I was so scared.
Zay, what the fuck
is wrong with you?
Why didn't you just
tell me the truth?
I would have helped you.
Really?
You won't even bring
me to the airport.
I was in Orlando.
You gave me five
minutes' notice.
Still said no.
I'm always taking care of you,
ever since we was kids.
Yeah, that's the thing.
You think that, but you didn't.
Were you at my first
basketball game?
Yes.
- My graduation?
- Yes.
When I lost my virginity, Craig?
- No.
- Mm-hmm.
- Agh!
- Oh, my God, man.
You're so fucking dramatic.
You're so fucking immature.
Always with the jokes.
- Even when Dad died.
- Here we go.
Here we go with this shit.
You switched out
the hymnal pages
at his funeral.
Grandma almost sang
"Fuck tha Police."
That would have
been pretty funny.
Our father was lying in a box,
and you didn't give a shit.
You've never given
a shit about anyone
or anything. You're
a fucking sociopath.
I swear to God, if you
were not my brother,
I wouldn't even fuck with you.
Man, you really...
You really believe that?
You think I didn't care
that my dad died when
I was ten years old?
You never showed it.
It was the worst day of my life.
I just wasn't sobbing like you.
Then why didn't you
talk to me about it?
Because I was fucking mad.
I was mad at you
for snitching on me
with that fucking Jolly Rancher.
I was mad at Pops for even
going back into that store.
I was mad at Mom
for marrying a...
A fucking loser who didn't
have a dime to his name.
I was mad at that... That
lowlife piece of shit
who shot him. But
I knew... I knew,
even as a kid, that if I let it,
that anger would bury me.
It would drag me into the dirt.
So yeah... so yeah,
I... I stuffed it down.
And I put on my fucking armor,
and I told my fucking jokes.
Man, but armor don't
stop every bullet, man.
My anger's still there,
and I've carried it with me
my entire life.
So... so since
you're wondering...
Since you're wondering, Craig,
that's what the fuck
is wrong with me.
I didn't ask for this pain.
I didn't ask for that
dead body, either.
But now I've got them
both, and I don't know how
to get rid of
either fucking one.
- Zay...
- Fuck.
Listen...
- I'm listening.
- Shh, shh, shh.
I guess we not gonna
have to fold him up
after all.
So we good?
I don't know.
This shit seems like
it's gonna take a while.
We talking about the
snake or stuff between us?
Both.
Both.
Let's give him some space.
- Oh, no.
- What the fuck?
Son of a bitch, come on!
Not a doctor. Shh.